The Women Behind Erotic Fiction

The Women Behind Erotic Fiction

The Secret Lives of Erotica Writers

Warning: The captions of this post are excerpts from the featured writers' erotic literature and contain sexually explicit language.

"Dan answered his phone immediately. Izzy sucked Jay slow and gentle as he made the arrangements for the next day. Her fingers were buried inside her pussy and Jay slipped his finger round to play with her clit, stroking the hard button until she was moaning around his cock, the vibrations making his voice catch. 'Is your girlfriend giving you head?' Dan asked, 'Are you getting a blow job while you talk to me?' Jay just moaned, the phone slack against his ear as he gave himself up to Izzy’s mouth." —fromInside Looking Out (Immoral Views) by Lexie Bay

David Woolfall

Who are the people behind erotic fiction, those accounts of racy affairs and clandestine romances so often stashed away in secret, read in the privacy of one’s home?

Increasingly, photographer David Woolfall discovered, they’re women. But they’re not who you might expect.

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“Easy to imagine they would be foxy, leather-clad mistresses, whip in one hand, the other on the keyboard. I knew the reality would be very different. I wanted to see behind their pseudonyms and secret lives,” Woolfall said in a statement.

Woolfall began his project, “Kinky Books,” by searching for authors online and cold-contacting them to see if they’d be interested in being photographed.

“Some declined because they didn’t want their identities revealed. They were writers of other genres and didn’t want people to know about the erotica work! On the whole, although circumspect at first, the women jumped at the chance and welcomed the opportunity,” Woolfall said.

"I wake up in the middle of the night; my cock is hard, and my mind is racing. I dig out my old faithful: a gay trucker DVD. Large muscular men grab arses, pound into sweaty flesh. The screen is full of sucking, fucking, bad-ass truck drivers. I haven’t hitchhiked in over fifteen years. I never met any truckers like those onscreen during my travels, mores’ the pity. I wank to the sound of digitised groans, and come into a handful of tissues I keep by the sofa. I finally fall asleep feeling spent and satisfied." —from the Bisexual Men anthology by Jacqueline Applebee

David Woolfall

"Slipping a hand into mine, he led me to the corner of the room which housed the clothes rack. Leaning towards me he whispered in a throaty voice, ‘Can I tie you up? I am sure you would look fantastic. Will you trust me?’ I nodded, unsure of exactly what he planned, but knowing that right now I would take any attention he was willing to give. I waited, the tension growing within me, as he fetched some artists cord and some rags from the chaos of his desk ... " —from Studio Girl by Kay Jaybee

David Woolfall

" 'No, no. I'm nearly done now. Just pass me my towel. I'll keep my eyes shut, and you can shower whilst I dress.' 'Oh, okay.' I quickly slipped off my bra and kickers, very aware that a hot, wet male was just on the other side of the plywood divide. I found his towel strewn over the far end of the bench and walked towards the shower curtain. I waited for the water to stop and stuck my hand through the curtain. 'Here you go.' I smiled, shut my eyes tightly and held my own towel over my private parts. My hand brushed past flesh—soft, warm, male flesh—and I withdrew my hand quickly." —from Getting Physicalby Victoria Blisse

David Woolfall

According to the Daily Mail, thanks to the increased popularity of e-readers, the market for erotic fiction is booming, and women are driving the sales. “Downloading saucy stories is becoming increasingly popular with women as the anonymity of the transaction means they are spared the blushes of having to buy a naughty book in stores,” the Daily Mailreported. “The portable nature of eReaders, like Amazon's Kindle, and the fact no-one can see what you're reading, means women can now read erotic fiction wherever they are without fear of embarrassment.”

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Woolfall said that’s not the only change. In the past couple of decades, he wrote in the Independent, the industry has “moved from being driven by men writing under female pseudonyms to a dominance by women authors.”

Although many women are more open about their interest in reading and writing erotic fiction now than ever before, Woolfall said some stigma remains. Two of the women Woolfall photographed asked to have their faces obscured: One hadn’t told her father about her career, and the other said she wanted to hide her identity to protect her family.

"Cody could do nothing but surrender to the all-consuming kiss. It was as if every nerve ending in his body led directly to his cock. He ground his hips against the man in an effort to get closer, which solicited another growl from the chest of the larger wolf. He reached down to grab hold of Cody’s ass and pressed them closer still. As soon as he became capable of rational thought again, Cody narrowed it down to only one. It’s him! He wanted to scream it to the entire world. It’s him! He found me!" —from Cody's Revelation by Lavinia Lewis

David Woolfall

" 'You ain't seen nothin' yet!' Meg laughed, tugging Grace in for another kiss. This time, both girls were on the same page, and the kiss was toe-curlingly sensual. Soon, Meg pulled away, only to trail her lips down the other girl's throat and begin planting soft kisses, trailing her tongue across the delicate skin there. Grace gasped, and tangled her fingers in Meg's hair. 'Trust me,' Meg said softly, fearing Grace might think she was going to bite. 'I will never do anything you don't want me to.' 'I know. It just feels damn good, that's all. Don't stop.' 'Oh, I have no intention of stopping.' " —from Bite With Height by Lucy Felthouse

David Woolfal

"By the time Stella managed to shut the door, Tino was already shoving at the hem of her dress, his hands moving up to cup her arse cheeks beneath the fabric. His enormous erection was fully visible through his trousers. ‘Tino. Tino! Behave.’ She couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice. ‘At least let me get you out of these clothes before you maul me.’ She joined him on the floor, but instead of sitting quietly while she undressed him as he had for Anne, he sprang. He pulled her into a rough and tumble across the floor of the lounge, biting and nipping and raking his fully clothed cock hard against her every time there was contact." —from The Pet Shop by K.D. Grace

David Woolfall

One of the authors, Kay Jaybee, said when she discovered her love of writing erotic fiction, she wasn’t sure how people would react. “I was wary of being assumed to be a slut. Sadly, many people can't separate the art from the subject matter – but if I wrote murder mysteries, no one would assume I went round shooting people,” she wrote in the Independent. “So I largely write in secret and take a salacious pleasure from sitting in my favourite coffee shop, notebook in hand, writing down words I'd never ever say, about things I'd never do. Everyone just assumes I'm either studying, or planning a shopping list.”

Though the writers came to fiction for different reasons and write different genres within the erotica realm, Woolfall said many of the women he photographed are like Jaybee: essentially conservative, shy people quick to emphasize that their stories and characters are not based on their own lives or desires.

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In fact, Woolfall said, the authors would be impossible to spot on the street. No whips or chains—they’re normal people going about their lives.

“They are mothers picking up their children from the school gates, one had a day job in a library, another was an active churchgoer,” Woolfall said. “All had a little twinkle in their eye that suggested a colorful, lively imagination!”

"The cocks within me were so rigid now, silk on steel. I knew it wouldn’t be long, and when the first tug of a blissful orgasm captured my clit and G-spot I claimed it. 'Ah, yes, yes,' I cried, trying to move but unable to. I was completely wrapped in male muscle, in me and around me, holding me viselike. I was there. My orgasm erupted and through my dreamy, ecstatic haze I realized Liam was about to join me in climax. 'Oh, fuck yes,' Liam shouted in a desperate, snapping voice. 'Fuck, go for it, Quinn. Faster. Fuck her faster.' Immediately Quinn shoved forward, catapulting my pussy and anus into a free fall of pleasure that came in great waves of sublime crescendos. His powerful hips rammed against my butt, over and over, harder and harder. Liam spurted into me, groaning and writhing, his hands gripping at my body as my innards spasmed and convulsed." —from Shared Tooby Lily Harlem

David Woolfall

" 'I dare you,' he said, and that’s how it all started. Pete had spoken those words – what, two days ago now? Waiting here, it was so easy to lose track of time, to forget I had a real life with a flatmate, and a flat I shared with him, and a job I hated that paid the rent on that flat. None of it seemed to matter, not when my world had been reduced to this basement room and all the weird and wonderful equipment it contained. Cramp knotted my calf, but I didn’t move to try to ease the discomfort. I had been told to kneel, head bowed, and kneel I would, until I received my next instruction. My disobedient cock twitched at the thought of what that might be. I’d been warned of the punishment that would follow if I got an erection without permission, but as the vibrating butt-plug packing my arse buzzed into life, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was hard once more. 'Not again, boy,' my master sighed, his tone a mixture of disappointment and relish at the thought of being able to give me further chastisement." —from His by Elizabeth Coldwell

David Woolfall

" 'I want to see you.' Vladimir hooked his fingers around the silky ribbons of her corset and plucked them out slowly, one by one. He drew a deep breath as it fell apart, revealing the shape of her full, soft breasts beneath her cotton chemise. The buds of her nipples were clearly visible, straining through the thin material and it made his cock swell. He licked his lips as he trailed his fingers over her breasts, outlining the voluptuous curves with his finger tips. He tickled the jutting nipples and Natasha gasped and rotated her hips beneath him." —from Vampires of Varna series by Louise Cross

David Woolfall

Jordan G. Teicher is the associate editor of Slate’s Behold blog. Follow him on Twitter.